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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29697375">Dreaming in Tamriel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ychbel/pseuds/Ychbel'>Ychbel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:00:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29697375</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ychbel/pseuds/Ychbel</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dreaming in Tamriel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Dreaming in Tamriel</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>One</strong>
</p><p>The Skyrim winter was harsh as ever. The biting cold blew down across the Sea of Ghosts, from the frozen Atmoran continent to the north, covering everything in layers upon layers of white ever-present snow as if to make sure that only the strongest denizens could survive. Or at least that's how the proud Nords would like to believe. But he's not afraid of any Nord. Not out here in the wilderness. </p><p>He sat down under one of the ancient trees, pulled out a scroll from the breast of his wolfskin jacket, and uttered the simple arcane words that called the flames and set fire to a small pile of twigs he gathered before him. From his sack, he took a frigid deer jerky and tore it with his small tusk. He took a sip from his goatskin, said a little prayer to Malacath, and tried to get some sleep. </p><p>The night was young, like him, and the wolves were hungry. But a little discomfort and danger cannot dissuade a young orc from achieving his dreams. After all, he managed to escape from his tribe's stronghold and from the guards of his father-chieftain using basic illusions. And though he hadn't gotten that far, the hardest part was over. </p><p>"I'm going to Winterhold. I'm going to be a mage." Young Urag said, smiling in his sleep. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Two</strong>
</p><p>Windhelm was in celebration. Every morning, the citizens gathered along the Avenue of Valor exulting the victory of Jarl Ulfric and the liberation of the province from the imperial yoke; the marketplace hummed and bustled with Nordic pride and hearty anti-empire and anti-thalmor sentiments; at the Candlehearth Hall, it seemed that the flames will burn and the mead will flow until the end of Time. </p><p>Yet all these were lost to Neuma. As far away as the Reach was to Eastmarch, she was removed from all the gaiety and reasons thereof. To her, the grey skies, even at midday light, could not lift the oppressiveness of the thick antediluvian walls – the narrow streets within were even more depressing and claustrophobic now. </p><p>As she passed by the slums of the Dunmer, she could not help but feel both pity and envy towards them. At least the Dark Elves could go about their lives as they pleased, or as far as the immigrants were allowed. The Beastfolk she considered luckiest, for they were spared from cruelty within the walls where she worked all her life for the Jarl under the supervision of his steward, Jorleif, who had been raping her since she was fourteen. But now she can try to let go of such feelings. Now was the time to change everything, at least for herself. </p><p>She had about her a dark hooded cloak that concealed her Forsworn demeanor and her rucksack where she kept a hundred stolen septims and two golden goblets that clunked rather awkwardly as she squeezed through the crowd. For contingency, she carried a dagger she had enchanted using the court-wizard's discarded arcane table. </p><p>The gates to the dock were open, and from where she exited unbothered by the guard, she could see the boats that brought in the goods to the Clan Shatter-Shield warehouse. She scanned the jetties but cautiously not to lift her face. </p><p>Her breath grew quick. With agitated steps, she descended from the platform. She walked towards the far end of the dock looking for the Khajiit who were supposed to smuggle her out of Windhelm. So desperately she looked and grasped for the promised escape, but the <em>cat</em> could not be found. </p><p>Soldier boots knocked against stone pavement behind her and her mind raced for any other alternative as she turned around. Two armed guards stood in front of the defunct East Empire Corporation office from which ancient door came out Jorleif. The old man hefted a small pouch that couldn't have contained more than fifty septims. Then came out the Khajiit who took the reward, whiskers quivering in delight, and left without even looking at her. </p><p>"Your debt will have been forgiven in two years," the Jarl's steward said, "but you chose to steal from your lord and runaway. Is this how you repay your mother's sacrifice? How do you think could you ever be free now?" </p><p>"I owe your lord nothing," was her bitter reply. "My mother had no other choice." </p><p>"We will 'talk' inside your cell. Guards, arrest this thief," Jorleif said, turning back to the city. </p><p>Though Neuma's mother admitted her collusion with the usurpers of their ancestral land in exchange for safety, she never forgave herself even before death. She raised and secretly taught Neuma of her Reachmen heritage, their practices and their struggles, so that she will never forget who she was, that one day she could return to her people and amend the sins of her parents. </p><p>As the guards were approaching, a heat rose from the cavern of her chest. All her anger and longing for home finally had their chance to surface. </p><p>Her hand reached for the dagger, unsheathing it. </p><p>Her hood and cloak flailed and her tears stirred in the cold wind as she came charging, blade glowing ominously in her hands. </p><p>"For the Reach!" she said her battle cry. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Three</strong>
</p><p>"I used to wish I was born on a night like this... Big and strong," Akmir said looking up at the moons of Nirn. Masser in full while Secunda, the minor one, was approaching halfway into the light. </p><p>"A senche or a senche-raht? Either would make a good steed," said Kala, smiling, her blind eyes staring at nothing while a young alfiq slept purring on her lap. </p><p>Akmir frowned at that, ashamed in a sudden. He resented ever dreaming of serving the Aldmeri Dominion and be mounted on like an ass to battle. </p><p>"But I now heed the wisdom of the moons. They bring the Khajiit to Elsweyr, and with their light guide him on his path. I don't question the moons. I trust them now with my destiny." </p><p>The campfire crackled, yielding embers to the mild desert wind. </p><p>"Ma'kala wishes to come with you, and her little brother too. They want to become adventurers as well," answered the ohmes girl. </p><p>The young-adult suthay didn't answer. </p><p>"They'll be useful. They promise not to be a burden. Please, J'akmir, let them come along." </p><p>"You're not a burden," Akmir replied. "You're a good herbalist. You'll walk your own path and find your own destiny. Ma'sho will always be your eyes." </p><p>The alfiq's left ear twitched upon hearing its name but remained curled up. </p><p>To this, Akmir sat up despite the flesh wound across his chest. </p><p>"J'akmir needs to rest. Let the salve do its job at least until the morning," Kala told her companion. Her little brother awoke and had a good stretch and a big yawn and went back to sleeping. </p><p>"We can't wait until the morning or we'll never catch up with the caravan,” said Akmir.</p><p>The blind ohmes girl replied, "J'akmir said the caravan won't make it to Orcrest until midday of the day after tomorrow. There is enough time to catch up." </p><p>"You can't risk missing them. I'm sure they can use your talent in making medicines and perfumes. Cyrodiil is fond of both luxurious and practical things," Akmir was saying, putting on the tattered leather armor over his injury when he noticed the girl staring through the fire, her expression somber, almost sad. An ache throbbed in him, though he wasn't sure if it was from the wound or from his guilt. </p><p>He spoke again, this time he tried to sound more cheerful, "And I've heard that the Imperials are kinder to the beastfolks compared to the Nords or the Redguards. You might be able to buy a house in one of the cities with the fortune you'll make." </p><p>But Kala remained morose. She asked instead, "Does J'akmir think the Thalmor would really have had them killed for being 'defective'?" </p><p>Akmir paused, surprised by the change in the conversation's direction.</p><p>"I don't know. And I didn't want to find out." </p><p>Akmir was fixing a short single-edged sword on his belt. </p><p>"Could the Mane allow the Khajiit mistreat their fellow?" </p><p>"I don't know about the Mane, and I don't care," he said with growing irritation, "but I don't want any beastfolk, or man or mer to look down on me. The moons guide me, not anyone, so I'll live my own life without having to prove anything to anybody. And I will be happy. You should too. It's only you and Ma'sho that matter. Walk your path with dignity, and find what makes you happy." </p><p>Kala sat straight up, holding the alfiq to her chest, and a smile of excitement returned to her lips. </p><p>"I understand. And I will," She said. </p><p>They packed up the camp just a couple of hours after sundown and went back to the dirt road that traversed the region from the southern most shores of tropical Palletine, across the desert lands of Anequina, and well into northwestern region of Cyrodiil. </p><p>By late noon the next day, they came to a small town near the road where the members of the caravan were spending the night before heading into Orcrest. It didn't take much to convince the caravan leader to take in the orphans seeing no way the children could have been delinquents, not with the ohmes' blindness and the suthay's bent tail. </p><p>The following morning, the group resumed their journey and made it to the city with Kala and Sho. But Akmir had already gone his own way that dawn. </p><p>Years have passed and the blind ohmes girl had grown into a woman of simple joys and multitude of skills, and eventually had forgotten the old boy. She remembered, however, how the caravanners quickly warmed towards her and her brother and told the authorities that they were relatives and not fugitives from Corinth. She remembered how she learned to make tapestries from a master in Riverhold and only after two years of practice sold her weaving. She remembered entering the imperial province the first time and saw what a terrible place it turned out to be with riots breaking out in many cities. She remembered the city of Bruma and its wintry climate and how she feared they were going to die from the cold. She remembered all these as her brother Sho guided her through the foreign wilderness, fleeing into Skyrim after their camp was raided and everyone massacred by a group of marauders off the Jerall Mountains pass. </p><p>At about the same time, Akmir had made a name for himself as an adventurer and part-time mercenary, others say a thief. With all his experience in battle and training, he had mastered his own technique capitalizing on his unusual balance afforded by his tail, making his moves unpredictable, his attacks come from unlikely angles. For this, he was known as Akmir Crooked-Tail. Later, he joined the imperial navy in the new Dragonborn emperor's war against the Aldmeri Dominion. At the Abecean Sea, on a day when the moons were new, the imperial armada clashed with the combined forces of Summerset Isle's royal navy, Bosmer fleet, and an armada from the Maormer kingdom in Pyandonea. Though the battle and ultimately the war was victorious, Akmir's ship was destroyed and sunk, dragging him down to his demise. His final thoughts were of warm sands of Elsweyr and a vague memory of a blind ohmes girl with an alfiq sleeping on her lap. </p><p> </p>
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